


Fire in the Sky

by MirrorMystic



Series: Among Eagles [16]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/F, F/M, Lesbians in Space, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22088875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: Providence Academy is the training ground for Order initiates, a planet in the very heart of the Sol Systems Alliance. It should have been safe. It should have been untouchable.Now, it’s a warzone. A Breach has opened, eclipsing its sun, choking the skies with warships and the ground with legions of undead. And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, Morgan and Syl are facing this catastrophe alone.Knight-Commander Lorelei of the Watchtower Council has issued an emergency recall of all Order assets in order to muster a liberation force and begin the counterattack. With her mentors in danger and fearing the worst, Aabha and the rest of Order asset Sparrow hurry to answer Lorelei’s call...
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: Among Eagles [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/987408
Kudos: 7





	Fire in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to "Among Eagles", an original sci-fi series and the first fic of the new year! I hope you all enjoy the read! ^^

~*~  
  
Across dozens of holoterminals and hundreds of ships, the Order’s heroes stood assembled.   
  
The Order’s section leaders and senior commanders stood before a strategium display, synced across the entire reclamation fleet-- a three-dimensional holographic display of Providence Academy and the shadow darkening its skies.   
  
Four individuals stood at the head of the gathered crowd. These four stood out, even among the Order’s storied veterans. One, an admiral in a stiff, navy uniform with silver braid, her once-flaxen hair now a distinguished white. Another, a dusky-skinned woman with a blue poncho thrown over her shoulder, the tight ringlets of her hair bobbing as her eyes darted around the room. Yet another, a quiet man in black silk, accented in green, a hand resting on a sheathed sword as if it were a cane. The last, a tall, sharp-eyed woman with fiery red hair, her red and gold armor hidden beneath a robe the color of bones bleached in the desert sun.   
  
A spear appeared in her grasp in a curl of white fire. She struck her spear against the floor like a gavel, and all eyes turned to her.   
  
“Alright!” Knight-Commander Lorelei barked. “We don’t have time to waste, so let’s make this quick. Here’s what we know.”  
  
Lorelei stabbed a finger into the display, at a point above Providence’s surface.   
  
“Approximately eight hours ago, a Breach was detected in the skies above Providence Academy. Since then, a Malefic fleet has jumped into orbit and begun a hostile invasion of the surface. Their forces are massing here, at the gravity well at Lagrange point 1 between Providence and its sun.”  
  
Lorelei reached into the display, tapping a point on the far side of Providence’s orbit, behind its parent star.   
  
“Right now, our strike force is concealed here at L3, eclipsed by Providence’s sun. Long-range scans from our forward scouts at L4 and L5 have given us an idea of the situation on the surface, and allowed Order Intelligence to devise a preliminary plan of attack. But that’s just a start. We need eyes on the ground, and we can’t wait to establish space superiority before we strike. Admiral?”  
  
Admiral Helen Weiss of the Alliance Navy stepped forward, acknowledging Lorelei with a curt nod. “Every second we spend slugging it out in orbit, the situation on the surface gets worse. I will engage the enemy fleet with the intent of drawing them away from the battle on the ground.”  
  
“Our objective is to establish a foothold on the surface the instant Admiral Weiss punches a hole in the blockade,” Lorelei declared. “Reinforcements answering my emergency recall are already on their way. Until they arrive, we're the ones getting the ground ready. We'll strike at these primary civilian centers as outlined by Order Intelligence, and create a secure forward position from which we can retake the rest of the planet. My forces, under callsign Phoenix, will lead the assault and establish our foothold. Admiral Weiss, your infantry companies under callsign Hammer will follow us in. Pathfinder Imani, your scouts under callsign Glass will work with Order Intelligence to survey and coordinate the attack, as well as to investigate, and seal, the Breach.”  
  
“Admiral Weiss has command of our forces in orbit. I have command of our air forces in-atmo. Soren and Imani, you two have the ground. Section leaders, Order Intelligence will be forwarding your assignments and you will be responsible for briefing your captains. I want all units battle-ready and on standby within one hour! Get ready to deploy immediately! Any questions?”  
  
“No, ma’am!” the officers chorused.   
  
“Excuse me, Commander? I have a question.”  
  
“Who’s there?” Lorelei called, searching the crowd.   
  
Aabha stepped forward, her hololithic form flickering to life, just another among dozens.   
  
“Knight-Commander Lorelei. Agent Aabha Puri, of Order asset Sparrow.”  
  
“Ah, you’re Vega’s girl,” Lorelei nodded. “What do you need? Speak up, now, clock’s ticking.”  
  
Aabha wrung her hands. “Yes. Um. My… My former mentors, Senior Agents Morgan Telerian and Sylwyn Telerian, had recently been transferred back to Providence Academy. I was wondering if my team could have permission… to…”  
  
Aabha trailed off, gazing up at the assembled crowd. Most of these veterans didn’t know Aabha, but she knew them, through mission reports, Council announcements, rumor, myth, and legend. Lorelei, her youthful freckles a jarring contrast to her notorious ferocity in combat. Imani, her calculating gray eyes fixed on Aabha as intently as a hawk studying a mouse. Admiral Weiss, her gaze dignified and unyielding. Soren, his inscrutable gaze softened with a flicker of what could have been pity. And Cassandra Vega, eyes fixed forward, unable to meet Aabha’s eyes.   
  
Officers. Veterans. Heroes and saints. A thousand years of military experience gathered into mere dozens of the Order elite. Each and every illustrious career began on Providence Academy.   
  
Everyone had somebody down there, one way or another.   
  
“...F-Forgive the interruption, Commander,” Aabha choked out, hot shame spreading across her cheeks and tightening her jaw. “I misspoke.”  
  
Lorelei blinked, taken aback. She opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it again.   
  
“...Very well,” Lorelei said, at last.  
  
She stamped her spear against the deck, and held her arm flat, forming a cross between her arm and her spear haft. Every officer in the room snapped off a salute.   
  
“With these hands--”  
  
“We make the future!” the crowd echoed with a cheer.   
  
“Everyone to your stations! Prepare to deploy!” Lorelei cried. “Dismissed!”  
  
~*~  
  
Aabha took a deep breath, and got to her feet. The team was assembled before her, sitting around the Sparrow’s dining table. Standing around the holoterminal in the control room would have been too stiff. Too impersonal. If they were going to do this, it was going to be as a family.   
  
“Thank you all for coming,” Aabha began.   
  
She gazed out across the rows of faces, all eyes on her, gilded in the lamplight turned low for night cycle. She took a breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh.   
  
“We’re still waiting to receive more detailed orders,” Aabha said, “but whatever happens, I need you all to know that this operation will be nothing like the missions we’ve tackled up until now. This isn’t a simple matter of dropping off a mission team and letting them pursue a case on the ground. This is going to be much, much more dangerous.”  
  
“This is bigger than any of us. Right now, we are just a small piece of a massive Order response. This time tomorrow, reinforcements could arrive to relieve us, and we’d be free to go back to our lives. But until that time, we are at war.”  
  
Unease rippled across the group. Vincent slapped a palm on the table and got to his feet.   
  
“This is some shit, Aabha,” he snapped.   
  
“Sit down, Vincent,” Robyn warned.   
  
“Don’t you start with me, Captain--”  
  
“Sit. Down.”  
  
“No! This is crazy!” Vincent railed. “Look at us! Ex-gangsters, street kids, part-time space cops? We’re not soldiers!”  
  
“Vince has a point,” Kit shrugged, uneasy. “We can handle ourselves in, like, mafia shootouts, but we’re not supposed to be fighting wars. Where are the actual army guys?”  
  
“The Breach caught the Providence Defence Fleet by surprise,” Crane said quietly. “They were overrun in a matter of hours.”  
  
“ _Jesus_ ,” Lily hissed. “And they want us to go into that?”  
  
“As far as we know, PDF ground forces are still putting up a fight,” Aabha insisted. “We just need to get down there and help them hold on a little longer, until the rest of the Alliance reinforcements can arrive.”  
  
“So we’re just, what, a delaying tactic?” Vincent scoffed. “This is crazy!”  
  
“You’ve done crazy before,” Lila offered.   
  
“That was different,” Vincent argued. “That was me sucking it up so I could save my friend from a sorcerer and a couple of security mechs. But _this_?”  
  
Vincent put a hand on Aabha’s arm, a raw, aching sincerity in his eyes.   
  
“I’ve known you a couple years now, Aabha. There’s a lot I’d do for you, if you asked,” Vincent pleaded. “But _think_ about what you’re saying, here. You’re bringing us into a warzone. You’re asking us to die.”  
  
Aabha stared at him, stricken. Eventually, Vincent pulled away, glancing down at the floor. Aabha swallowed hard, and pulled out a dataslate with trembling fingers.   
  
“...I know this isn’t what any of you signed up for,” Aabha said quietly.   
  
She tapped at her slate, pulling up a form.   
  
“There’s a… formality, before major engagements like this. The Order calls it the ‘ship’s bond’. Though we came from different places, we all go in the same direction. Anyone-- and I mean anyone-- who is unwilling to sign this form, is free to stay back. There’s a carrier in this fleet, the Fae world ship _Tuatha De_ , that has agreed to host all non-combatants during this operation. It’s a support vessel that grows the crops that keep the fleet fed, and fights at a distance using a swarm of unmanned drones. It’s the closest thing to a safe place in this entire system.”  
  
Aabha took a deep breath, and let it out slow.   
  
“...I won’t ask any of you to die for me,” she said quietly. “If you choose to stay back aboard the Tuatha De, that’s your choice, and I won’t blame you for it. But if you do sign the bond, that means your fate is tied to the fate of this ship. The Sparrow is about to fly into a warzone. If you fly with her, then you are going to war… with all the risks that that entails.”  
  
A somber silence descended upon the group. Aabha raised the slate, a scanning beam flicking up her body and settling on her badge. She pressed her thumb against the screen. The slate confirmed her registration with a lighthearted chime that said nothing of the weight of the decision she was making.   
  
“I’m going down there,” Aabha said. “Who’s with me?”  
  
A long moment passed. Finally, Kit stepped forward.   
  
Aabha’s heart sank. “Kit, please, don’t feel obligated just because we’re--”  
  
Kit silenced her with a kiss. She snatched the dataslate from Aabha’s hands as they parted, registering her badge and thumbprint with a chime.   
  
“I didn’t have much of a life before I met you,” Kit smiled. “I’ll be right beside you, wherever you go.”  
  
“Kit…”  
  
Kit casually held out the slate. Lily took it, next in line.   
  
“You walked into Hell for me and Lila,” Lily declared. “We’re with you, now. No matter what.”  
  
Lily pressed her thumb against the slate, took the bond with a chime. Lila took the slate next, smiling shyly as she met Aabha’s eyes.   
  
“I really look up to you, you know that, Aabha?” Lila said gently. “You make me want to do more. To make a difference. I don’t know _how_ much of a difference I can make, down there, but it might be a little bit. It might be just enough.”  
  
Lila took the bond. The slate chimed.   
  
Crane primly plucked the slate from Lila’s fingers.   
  
“I’m a spy, not a soldier,” Crane admitted. “But those are my friends down there. Morgan and Syl don’t get to sit this one out. Neither do I.”  
  
Shanti sauntered up, her arms folded across her chest. She drummed her fingers against her arms, her transcription drone warbling beside her.   
  
_When Corinth fell to Malice, we had to last almost two years before the Order could mount a full liberation,_ Shanti typed. _Never again. With my tech on your side? We’re ending this thing in a single day._ _  
_ _  
_Shanti pulled off a heavy work glove and pressed her thumb against the slate until it flashed green.  
  
Jaki strode up behind her, lips curled in a playful smile.   
  
“Now, surely, this is no surprise,” Jaki chuckled. “I am a healer at heart, child. Body, mind, and soul. And there will be dangers down on Providence that will test all three. I am with you, little Aabha, wherever the River takes you.”  
  
Jaki took the bond with a chime. Someone reached out from behind him, grabbed the slate, and flipped it into the air.   
  
Robyn caught it with a flourish, and registered her thumbprint with a grin.   
  
“ _Someone’s_ got to fly you kids down there, don’t they?” Robyn grinned. “I hope you weren’t planning on taking some piece-of-crap dropship.”  
  
Aabha faltered. “C-Captain, you don’t have to… I mean… the Sparrow is your _home_ \--”  
  
“That makes you family,” Yuna chimed in, smiling. “Don’t let my good looks fool you, dear. I’m still a dragon, after all. And a dragon defends her home.”  
  
“Her _hoard_ , more like it,” Robyn grinned. “‘Cept instead of gold, she gets _you_ kids.”  
  
They laughed together. They took the bond. One chime after another.   
  
Ambrosia stepped forward, blinking owlishly behind her glasses. Aabha swallowed hard.  
  
“Ambrosia,” Aabha began. “You don’t have to face this with us. You’re a civilian. You could take shelter on the _Tuatha De_. If you stay aboard the Sparrow, I can’t guarantee your safety.”  
  
“Frankly, dearie, that’s true wherever I go,” Ambrosia tittered, a hand to her mouth. “I know, I know, this all started as a routine escort from the Kaleidoscope to your Watchtower. Just a simple matter of getting from one place to another. But the truth is, I’ve grown quite fond of this ship, and this team, and before I settle down in a nice greenhouse somewhere… I do believe I could use one last adventure.”  
  
Ambrosia smiled. She took the bond with a chime, and scurried off.   
  
Vincent stood before Aabha, arms crossed. He huffed out a sigh.   
  
“You make it real hard to be somebody with self-preservation instincts sometimes, you know that?” Vincent smiled, shaking his head. “Goddamn heroes, the lot of you.”  
  
“Vince, you don’t have to,” Aabha argued.   
  
“Nah. Crane’s right. My friends aren’t sitting this one out, so neither am I,” Vincent clapped Aabha on the arm. “...Also, Lila and your girlfriends were all giving me meaningful looks, and I had to get those judgmental eyes off of me.”  
  
Vincent pressed his thumb against the slate. There was a chime.   
  
Aabha took the slate back in her hands, scrolling down the list. As she looked up, the whole team had their eyes on her. Just a few short months ago, they would all have been looking at Morgan and Syl, Aabha included. In a way, maybe they still were.   
  
“Where we go, we go together,” Aabha whispered, like a prayer. She raised a hand and wiped at her eyes.   
  
Crane stood up, and pushed her chair back in. She clasped her hands behind her back and clicked her heels together.   
  
“Your orders, Agent Puri?” Crane asked, her voice crisp and clean.   
  
Aabha took a deep breath, and lifted her head high.   
  
“Prepare for battle!” Aabha barked. “Dismissed!”  
  
~*~  
  
 _“This is Knight-Commander Lorelei to all signs. Admiral Weiss’ fleet is almost in position to begin long-range bombardment. Once the fleet has engaged, we will begin deployment to the surface. Your objective is to commence area denial to all hostile forces in your assigned zone before converging on a designated rendezvous point from which we can secure our forward operations. All signs, stand by for sector assignments…”_  
  
Aabha stood in the control room, cast in the hololithic glow of data streaming up from the holoterminal, her fist curled against her mouth so she wouldn’t bite her nails. The rest of the crew had gone to gear up-- all save for Crane, lurking in the shadows as she was so often inclined.   
  
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Aabha muttered into her fist, gazing into the holoterminal’s cold blue light. “I was talking to Morgan just last night. Everything was fine then, but _now_ …”  
  
Crane studied Aabha’s face, her glasses glinting in the holoterminal’s glow. A flicker of… something passed across her eyes.   
  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Crane murmured. “It doesn’t take a psychic. Providence is under attack, Morgan and Syl are in danger, and the only reason they’re down there at ground zero is because you put them there.”  
  
“...Yes,” Aabha admitted, her jaw tight. “Now I have to get them out.”  
  
“No,” Crane said sharply. “You didn’t do this, Aabha. The Order put them down there, and the Order will get them out. This isn’t your duty to shoulder alone.”  
  
“You don’t understand what they mean to--” Aabha began.   
  
“I do, Aabha,” Crane said firmly. “I might be the only one on this ship who _does_ understand. Look at me, Aabha.”  
  
Aabha sighed, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I don’t--”  
  
“Look at me,” Crane insisted. She reached out, tipping Aabha’s chin up. Warm amber met glass-green.   
  
“You can’t hold yourself personally responsible for whatever happens to them down there. We’re just one cog in a big machine. Trust your team, Aabha. Trust your fellow Agents to do their jobs and do them well. We may not be the ones to personally get Morgan and Syl out, but it will happen. You have to believe that.”  
  
“Do _you_?”  
  
Crane faltered. She glanced away, clearing her throat.   
  
“...I don’t know, Aabha. I don’t know.” Crane sighed. “War is a gamble, Aabha. No victory is guaranteed, and never without cost. All I can do is stack the deck.”  
  
There it was again, in the corner of Crane’s eyes. A hesitation. A tic.   
  
“Crane,” Aabha whispered. “What did you do?”  
  
There was a dense, metallic thunk, followed by an airlock’s pressurized hiss.  
  
Aabha came out of the control room, Crane at her heels. Two figures emerged from the Sparrow’s boarding hatch, both garbed in shining white and dove-gray. One, a priest in long robes and fur mantle; the other, a woman in gleaming pearl armor and coattails split like the tail feathers of a bird of prey, bearing a long-bladed spear.  
  
The woman stepped forward, stamped her glaive against the ground and saluted, her arm forming a cross against the haft.   
  
“Agent Crane,” she said with a nod. She turned, scrutinizing Aabha with a pair of cool gray eyes. “And you must be Agent Puri.”  
  
“I am,” Aabha said, fighting the urge to tug at her braid. “May I know you, ser…?”  
  
The woman looked up at her, fixing her with an intense gray stare. She was a woman of small stature, smaller than Kit, even, but she seemed to radiate power and authority in exactly the way Aabha wished she could.  
  
“I am Sister Mirai of Order asset Talon,” she declared, “and I have a proposition for you.”  
  
~*~  
  
“Forgive the intrusion,” Mirai began, after they had reconvened in the control room. Kit and Lily, who’d heard the Talon dock with the Sparrow and came to investigate, hovered at Aabha’s shoulders, to her quiet relief.   
  
“What I’m about to discuss is sensitive military intelligence,” Mirai said. “Too sensitive to be spoken over comms. Time is short, so let me not mince words: my squad aboard Order asset Talon has been assigned to secure a VIP on Providence’s surface: Archmagus Kalani, director of Providence Academy and sitting member of the Watchtower Council.”  
  
“We’ve met,” Aabha nodded.   
  
“Our most recent intel puts her somewhere in the Cygnus campus. As I understand it, that’s also the location of a pair of VIPs of your own.”  
  
“Morgan. Syl,” Aabha breathed. “Sister Mira, my team would be honored to assist you in your mission however we can--”  
  
Mirai shook her head.   
  
“The Sparrow has its orders,” she said. “But I have room for two more aboard my dropship, for you and someone you trust. Come with us. Help us with our mission, and we’ll help with yours.”  
  
“Holy shit!” Kit blurted out. Mirai’s eye twitched. Kit turned to Aabha, grabbing her arm. “So, we’re doing this, right? We’re doing this?”  
  
“I…” Aabha hesitated, blowing out a sigh. “I want to. I do. This is our chance to rescue Morgan and Syl ourselves, rather than leaving it to anyone else. But… if I go, who will lead the team?”  
  
“I will,” Crane volunteered.   
  
“But, Crane, you should be--”  
  
“Aabha, you know exactly how much Morgan and Syl mean to me. I would go if I could,” Crane protested. “But I’m only human. I’m not fit to fly alongside the Valkyries. And I trust you, Aabha. I know you can get them out.”  
  
Aabha clenched her fists.   
  
“...But I need to be here,” she said quietly. “Morgan and Syl entrusted me with this team. I have to stay with the Sparrow. I have to prove that I can do this!”  
  
“Aabha,” Crane said firmly, taking her by the shoulders and searching her eyes. “Aabha, look at me. You’re a good Agent, Aabha. Someday you might even be a great one. But this is not the time for practice. Not when the stakes are this high. I trust you with my closest friends, Aabha. Trust me with your team.”  
  
Aabha took a deep breath, and nodded.   
  
“Alright! Let’s go, then!” Kit cried, her blood up. A flash of guilt wiped away her smile when she saw Lily beside her.   
  
“I- I mean-” Kit faltered. “It’s your choice, Aabha. You can take Lily with you instead, obviously.”  
  
“No, she can’t,” Lily said softly. “But it’s okay. Crane said it herself. I’m only human. That’s a ship full of supers. I’ll only slow you guys down.”  
  
Aabha opened her mouth to say something. Closed it again. She took a deep breath, and let it out slow.   
  
“...We accept your proposal, Sister Mirai.”  
  
Mirai nodded curtly.   
  
“...Very well. I will give you a moment to prepare.”  
  
Crane ushered Mirai and her escort out of the control room, leaving Aabha, Kit, and Lily alone. The strategic display of Providence lingered above the holoterminal, casting them in its dusky amber glow. For a long moment, they just stood there, gazing at each other in the dimming light, the weight of words unsaid between them. The light of the holoterminal didn’t feel warm, welcoming. It felt like a sunset. It felt like goodbye.   
  
“Lily,” Aabha began, when the silence became unbearable, “I just want you to know, just because you’re not coming on this mission doesn’t you’re any less a part of--”  
  
“I know,” Lily shushed her with a hand on her shoulder. “I know.”  
  
Lily slid her hand down Aabha’s arm, gently taking her hand. She reached out beside her, and took Kit’s hand in turn. They laced their fingers together with a squeeze.   
  
“Man… we’ve been through some shit, haven’t we?” Lily murmured. “When I first met you guys on Persephone, I never could’ve imagined what you’d end up meaning to me. Back then, all I could think about was just surviving one day at a time until I could get Lila out of there. Now, look at us. You two have given me so much… and now, I have everything to lose.”  
  
“Not everything,” Kit urged. “Lily… listen. If anything happens to us, or the team… take Lila and bail. I mean it. Get somewhere far away from all this fighting and just… start over. Be a family.”  
  
“My family’s right here,” Lily breathed, like a prayer. “I just wish… we had more time.”  
  
Lily’s voice cracked. Kit choked out a sob, and dove into her arms. They stumbled back, and Aabha caught them, wrapping her arms around them both. They stood there together, swaying, gilded in the holoterminal’s amber light.   
  
“...I know we’ve kind of been dancing around the ‘L’ word,” Lily murmured into Kit’s throat. “Because, to me, that word is… a commitment. A future. It’s a promise. And I don’t know if that’s a promise we can keep. We’re going to battle and it won’t be like anything we’ve done before, and I’m so scared, because I can see that future ahead of us. I can see us flying around the galaxy and going on adventures and doing amazing things, and I want that for us, more than anything.”  
  
Lily took a shuddering breath.   
  
“...I love you,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid to. Because this time tomorrow, we could all be--”  
  
Kit captured her lips in a soft, tender kiss. Lily sighed into the kiss, warmed to her core, Kit’s touch momentarily silencing her fear. As they parted with a gasp, Lily felt a squeeze on her arm and looked over her shoulder. Aabha pulled her in for a kiss of her own, gently cupping Lily’s cheek and smoothing her tears away.   
  
Lily shuddered as they parted. She met first Aabha’s eyes, then Kit’s-- amber and crimson, like the first stars in the night sky. She gasped, her eyes wet.   
  
“Come home to me,” she begged.   
  
Aabha and Kit held her close, squeezing her tight, as if they could sear their promises into her skin. They held each other and swayed in the amber light, and tried their best to convince themselves and each other that this wasn’t goodbye.   
  
~*~  
  
They were out of time. Precious few moments later, Lily was disappearing down the hall, an anxious Lila watching them depart. A few moments after that, Aabha and Kit were marching down the boarding tube onto the Talon, the pearl-white Valkyrie leading the way.   
  
“I am the First Spear and acting captain of Order asset Talon,” Mirai was saying, as they walked. “Aboard my ship, you will refer to me as ‘First Spear’, ‘Sister’, or ‘ser’.”  
  
“Yes, ser,” Aabha nodded.   
  
“How about ‘cutie’?” Kit teased.   
  
Mirai sucked her teeth in frustration. She whirled around, a finger stabbed into Kit’s chest.   
  
“Don’t,” she hissed. “Not tonight, alright? I have enough on my plate already without your jokes.”  
  
Kit huffed, raising her hands and mouthing an indignant “o-kay…”. But there was a flicker of something in Mirai’s eyes-- something that gave Aabha pause.   
  
The boarding hatch slid shut behind them. The airlock doors hissed open, and the Talon opened up before them, stark and austere, every surface polished and gleaming in black, white, and gold. A pair of door sentries stood to attention on either side, stamping their spears on the deck in salute.   
  
“The strike force is preparing to deploy,” Mirai said, as she led them down a hallway lit by hidden wall sconces. “Brother Taven will assist you with your gear. We assemble on the drop deck in thirty minutes. Don’t be late.”  
  
Mirai dismissed them with a curt nod, turned on her heel--  
  
“What were their names?”  
  
Mirai froze. She turned, her jaw tight, hissing every word.   
  
“...Excuse me?”  
  
“You said you were ‘acting’ captain of Order asset Talon,” Aabha said gently, “and that there were two free spots on your dropship. What were their names?”  
  
For a moment, just a moment, Aabha saw the crack in the facade. She saw past the shining armor, the air of authority, and saw the woman, young, almost as young as Aabha herself, with her mentors gone and the world on her shoulders. Aabha gasped, empathy snagging her heart like a fishhook. Mirai just flinched, and snatched her eyes away.   
  
“The dead can wait,” Mirai said quietly. “Let’s get to work.”  
  
~*~  
  
“So, this Mirai’s got a real stick up her butt, huh?” Kit drawled.   
  
“Kit!” Aabha hissed.   
  
“Please forgive Sister Mirai’s curt demeanor,” Brother Taven said, bowing his head. “I assure you, she’s normally quite charming.”  
  
Kit saw the look Aabha was giving her. She sighed, and waved the thought away. “...Alright, fine. We _are_ about to dive into a warzone. I guess that would stress anybody out, even the Order’s elite Valkyries.”  
  
“The Valkyries choose the living and the dead,” Taven recited.   
  
“Uh-huh,” Kit mused. “So, what’s your story? How did you wind up being the one lucky guy on a ship full of gorgeous women who could kick your ass?”  
  
“By being very good with my hands,” Taven said dryly.  
  
Kit snorted.   
  
Taven coughed. “...By which I mean to say, I am the ship’s medic, confessor, and chaplain. A healer must mend the whole; body, mind, and spirit.”  
  
“So, what, the Valkyries are taking men now?” Kit asked.   
  
“Oh, no, no. Although with Lorelei’s less-than-traditional tenure as Knight-Commander, that could very well change,” Taven replied. He was busy mounting a device onto the back of Aabha’s armor-- a circular halo, framing her from behind. It locked into place on the modular hardpoints over her shoulder blades. Taven drew a short, hooked knife from his belt and carefully began retouching the runic inscriptions lining the interior of the ring.   
  
“The Valkyries are a purely martial sisterhood,” Aabha explained. “For their mages and support staff, they contract out to their sister organization, the Ordo Obscura.”  
  
“‘The Forgotten Order’?” Kit wondered.   
  
“A rather melodramatic name, I admit,” Taven chuckled. “And only because we preserve the knowledge of things the Valkyries have the luxury of forgetting. They care only about the battlefield, about sword, shield, and spear. Just look at their ranks.”  
  
“How do you mean?” Aabha asked.   
  
“There are three main ranks, and three tiers of each. First, second, third. Every Valkyrie enters the sisterhood as a Third Sword, and works their way up from there, to Shield, to Spear, to Captain or even Commander someday,” Taven explained, as he continued fussing over the inscriptions on Aabha’s back. “The rationale is that every Valkyrie begins as a Sword of the Almighty. Some become Shields, experienced enough to defend their fellow sisters. And Spears are the ones who lead the charge, the first ones to meet the enemy. In essence, anyone can attack. Only a few can defend. And fewer, still, can lead.  
  
“I, myself, am neither Sword, Shield, or Spear,” Taven smiled, sheepish. “I am an arcane scholar, and wielder of divine secrets. I am an Exorcist.”  
  
Kit grinned and shook her head. “Oh man, Sister Mirai must _hate_ that…”  
  
“Oh, on the contrary!” Taven chirped. “We’ve known each other ever since we were young. We’re… quite close.”  
  
Kit whistled appreciatively. “How close are we talking here?”  
  
“Kit!” Aabha chided.   
  
“...Such a thing is not permitted between the Sisterhood and the Obscuritas,” Taven said wryly. He blew out a sigh, his tone becoming distant, wistful. “Even within the Sisterhood itself, such unions are frowned upon by high command. They don’t want any distractions from the mission. I think that’s foolish. History may remember us in terms of great battles, of victories and defeats. But people remember people. If I have one hope, it is that when the time comes, we will not be remembered by who we defeated, what we destroyed. Not by what we won or what we lost. I hope we will be remembered for who we loved.”  
  
The quiet between them abruptly got much heavier. Even Kit hesitated to break the somber quiet with a snappy remark. Aabha, meanwhile, bowed her head in reverence.   
  
The Order as a whole would remember this as the battle to save a planet. But the Sparrow would remember it as the fight to save their friends.   
  
Taven sighed, and scratched one last sigil into the halo on Aabha’s back.   
  
“Done,” he announced, mercifully changing the subject. “Why don’t you give it a try?”  
  
Aabha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In astral space, she could feel her inner magic shifting towards this new conduit, pooling in her shoulder blades.   
  
Runes shimmered across the halo on her back. In a rush of flame, two great wings burst from her shoulders, curtains of saffron fire.   
  
Aabha let out a shuddering breath, feeling the rush of power surging through her veins. For a brief, exhilarating moment, her amber eyes shone a brilliant gold.   
  
“Do you like it?” Taven asked, grinning proudly. “Faster and nimbler than any human-made jump pack, by far. An angel’s wings are an expression of their magic, channeled through their shoulder blades. With the right conduit, and the right enchantment, you can do the same.”  
  
“How long does the enchantment last?” Aabha wondered.   
  
“As long as _I_ do,” Taven replied.   
  
“Aabha, you’ve never looked hotter, and yes, that’s a terrible pun,” Kit grinned, nodding her approval. She glanced up at Taven, hopeful. “So, uh… do _I_ get one of those?”  
  
“Even better,” Taven replied.  
  
Taven rapped his knuckles against a storage crate, and it slid open with a hiss. Kit whistled in admiration. She and Aabha exchanged glances. Grins.   
  
“I can understand a preference for mobility over protection,” Taven began, “but with a Valkyrie’s armor, and an angel’s wings, you’ll not want for either.”  
  
Taven opened his hand, and a brass staff appeared in his grasp. He struck his staff against the ground, and the set of Valkyrie armor rose out of its locker, each piece glinting strangely in the light.   
  
Kit shrugged off Syl’s coat and set it aside, holding out her arms as pieces of armor hovered over to her and locked into place. While her hand-me-down exosuit served as a nimble, somewhat protective bodysuit, Syl had told her from the start that it was always meant to be the innermost layer of proper, full armor. Now, at last, Kit got to see that realized.   
  
Bracers. Greaves. Thigh plates. Chestpiece. Pauldrons. The spare set of Valkyrie armor took shape on Kit’s lean figure, the dull grey of unpainted ceramite polished to a stark, bone-white. Finally, Kit slipped Syl’s coat back on, open over her armor. The halo on her back shimmered, its glow peeking through the fabric of Syl’s coat. Wings burst from her shoulders, constructs of magicked wind, shimmering a faint, ghostly gray.   
  
Taven stepped back, nodding his approval.   
  
“Almost there,” he said. “Just one last touch.”  
  
Taven reached for a weapon rack set in the wall, and retrieved one of the Valkyrie’s signature lances. Nine feet long at full extension, collapsible haft, forked spearhead that could pull back to reveal two barrels built into the shaft, one firing lasbolts, the other armor-piercing plasma. A versatile weapon, effective as a pike in formation, as a glaive in single combat, or, with the shaft fully collapsed, a lasrifle and bayonet.   
  
“I know you have your favorites, Agent Puri,” Taven said, eyeing the sunburst chakrams slung on Aabha’s hips. “But a Valkyrie must be ready for any foe, on any battlefield.”  
  
“Thank you, ser,” Aabha nodded, accepting the precious weapon. “I won’t waste it.”  
  
“Enforcer Sato,” Taven said, drawing another weapon from the rack, “this is for you.”  
  
Kit took the sheathed sword in both hands. She drew the blade halfway, watching as sigils etched into the metal began to shine until the whole blade was alight with white fire. She took a moment to admire the holy sword, feel the thrum of power in her fingers, before clicking it back into its sheath.   
  
“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good sword,” Kit said, patting the trusty heat blade on her hip. “But shouldn’t Aabha take this one? I’ve already got one of my own.”  
  
“That’s as may be,” Taven smiled, “but the Valkyries have a saying: ‘a woman with only one sword is not yet fully dressed.’”  
  
Kit broke into a grin, catching Aabha’s eyes. “Man, we gotta hang out with more angels.”  
  
Aabha laughed, and nudged Kit in the arm. Kit grinned and shoved her back, before her hand trailed down Aabha’s arm and they linked their fingers together with a squeeze.   
  
They made a striking pair. Aabha, a burning angel, resplendent in crimson and gold. Kit, a shadow in the fog, in black, ghost-gray and bone-white, her only splashes of color being the scarlet in her eyes and the checkered yellow scarf at her throat.   
  
Most striking, however, were the smiles on their faces. A moment of levity on the eve of battle. One last calm before the storm.   
  
Only the Almighty knew how long it would be until their hearts were this light again.  
  
A bell tolled throughout the ship. Aabha and Kit glanced up from their reverie. Taven leaned on his staff and blew out a sigh.   
  
“...It’s time,” he said. “Follow me.”  
  
~*~  
  
The Sisters stood assembled on the Talon’s drop deck, Mirai at the head of the congregation. A deep crimson cloak fell from her shoulders, a new sign of her status as acting captain. It was a stark contrast to her armor, a deliberate homage to Knight-Commander Lorelei’s own colors. Scarlet and white. Like blood on freshly fallen snow.   
  
Taven ushered Aabha and Kit into the chamber, their wings dismissed, for now, so as not to turn _too_ many heads. The Sisters, to their credit, did not turn to look at them; their eyes remained fixed forward, standing to attention. Only Mirai turned to acknowledge their entrance, greeting Aabha and Kit with curt nods, her chin dipping a fraction of an inch. Only at the sight of Taven did her tense, stern visage soften in the slightest-- the corner of her lips, ticking up into a smile.   
  
Then Mirai stamped her spear against the deck and the ranks snapped to attention.   
  
“My Sisters!” Mirai cried. “We are Valkyries! The Valkyries choose the living and the dead! And today, we are once again called to service, to offer sword, shield, and spear to the Almighty, and to lay waste to Her foes!”  
  
Taven ushered Aabha and Kit up the aisle, the three of them joining Mirai before the assembled Sisterhood.   
  
“We are joined today,” Mirai declared, “by our allies. Agent Aabha Puri. Enforcer Himari Sato.”  
  
“You can just call me Kit, actually,” Kit muttered under her breath. Aabha nudged an elbow against hers.  
  
“Though they are not Valkyries,” Mirai continued, “they are our sisters-in-arms. When they fly with us, they share our mission. Fire to the wicked! Light to the lost!”  
  
Mirai stabbed her spear towards the sky.   
  
“We are the fire that rains from Heaven!” Mirai thundered. “We are Valkyries!”  
  
 _“The Valkyries choose the living and the dead!”_ _  
_ _  
_The crowd roared out its response. Mirai joined the exultant cheer, before once again stamping her spear against the deck. Above her, shimmering into being on the drop deck’s vaulted ceiling, was a three-dimensional hololithic map of the Order fleet assembled above Providence. The Talon blinked on the screen, a tiny red blip. They were just one among hundreds of troop ships, a swarm of assault craft buzzing around a fleet of cruisers, battleships, and a dozen lumbering carriers.  
  
 _“This is Admiral Weiss aboard the flagship Vernichterlanze to all allied signs,”_ Helen’s commanding voice boomed across the Talon’s internal speakers. _“All gunnery crews, stand by for opening volley on my order only. Ready…!”_ _  
_ _  
_Deja vu flicked across Aabha’s mind. She closed her eyes, and breathed out a sigh.  
  
 _“Fire!”_  
  
For one blistering, bewildering moment, every star in the sky was ablaze with light-- missiles, mass accelerator rounds, ship-killing plasma beams, hull-shredding flak rounds, crackling ion charges. They streaked across the darkness of the cosmos and smashed into the Malefic fleet. New constellations were seared into the stars by explosions rippling across exposed hulls, firestorms painting new auroras into Providence’s night sky.   
  
Knight-Commander Lorelei’s voice crackled over the link.   
  
_“Admiral Weiss has engaged the enemy fleet! Ground forces, commence the assault!”_ _  
_ _  
_“Aye, Commander!” the Talon’s pilot called over the intercom. “First Spear Mirai, commencing assault! Diving in three, two, one…!”  
  
The deck lurched under their feet as the Talon pulled into a dive. They hit the edge of Providence’s upper atmosphere with a bang, the heat of re-entry wreathing the Talon in flames.   
  
Truly, they were the fire that fell from Heaven.   
  
For all that Mirai’s speech had riled them up, the Sisters now stood together in a tense, solemn quiet. Mirai herself clutched her spear with both hands, her head bowed against the shaft, murmuring under her breath. Taven stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her arm. She glanced up, met his eyes for a moment, before he turned and faced the crowd.   
  
“My Sisters,” he intoned. “Let us pray.”  
  
Taven tapped his staff against the ground, a gentler echo of Mirai stamping her spear to bring the squad to attention. His staff’s winged headpiece rang like a bell throughout the ship.   
  
Taven began to sing, a slow, somber battle hymn, a gentle, almost fragile tenor. Mirai joined him, a low, smoky contralto, her voice curling around his in a way she never would in person save behind closed doors.   
  
The Sisters joined their voices to theirs, a haunting melody ringing through the Talon’s vaulted ceiling. Taven tapped his staff against the deck, keeping the beat, bells ringing out with every strike.   
  
Aabha watched the Sisters sing with dread fascination, a knot settling in her chest. She’d dreamed of this, imagined this time after time-- flying alongside angels, among the Valkyries, the Order Elite. She would be someone legends are made of, the stuff of song. A hero.   
  
Aabha didn’t feel like a hero right now. She felt like a soldier, going to war, just one among thousands. And some of those soldiers would not return, not here or anywhere.   
  
Aabha let out a choked half-sob, her heart catching in her throat. She reached out, twined Kit’s fingers with hers, and squeezed her as tight as she could. Her other hand, aching in Lily’s absence, instead drew tight around her lance-- a gift from the Valkyries, their fates no more certain than Lily’s own.   
  
“Remember us for who we loved,” Aabha recited, like a prayer. Kit met her eyes and squeezed her hand tight.   
  
The Valkyries continued to sing, their voices enveloping them in the rising chorus, and Taven continued tapping out the beat on his staff, each strike sounding more and more like the tolling of funeral bells…  
  
~*~  
  
A shadow flicked across the glass and she darted aside, her heart racing. She’d caught a glimpse of a tattered black cloak, leathery wings, gnarled, rotted flesh...  
  
Morgan drew the blinds, casting the classroom in deeper shadow. He ushered her away from the window.   
  
“Concentrate,” he urged. “Look past the flesh. Reach out with your mind’s eye.”  
  
She took a deep breath, and let it out slow. She closed her eyes, and a new world took shape on the inside of her eyelids-- the ashen gray world of astral space. In astral space, the light of life shone like a star, with mages burning brighter than most. Normally, Providence Academy, with its density of mages and awakened minds, was downright blinding to look upon. But the landscape around them was an ominous gray smear, and there were shadows moving through the fog, holes in the world where people should have been.  
  
Her astral form brushed past one of the shades, its darkness leaving a stain. She snapped back to realspace with a gasp, an insectile chittering in her ears, a vast, hollow darkness in her mind’s eye.   
  
“Careful!” Morgan hissed, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder as she recoiled and rubbed at her eyes. “Those are servants of Malice. Drones. Lesser daemons. Those aren’t minds you want to read in any detail.”  
  
She nodded. “I know. Just let me give it one more shot.”  
  
She closed her eyes, concentrating. The world resolved itself in a painterly swirl of black inks and charcoal grays. She saw a light, like a shooting star, coming their way. But there was also a frothy, corrosive darkness, bearing down like a tidal wave--  
  
There was a sharp bang down the hall, and she snapped back to herself with a grimace.   
  
“They’re here…” she winced, shaking her head. “The first and second floors are already overrun. It’s over.”  
  
“This isn’t over while I’m still breathing,” Morgan declared.   
  
Another sharp bang. Closer, much closer.   
  
“Stay down,” Morgan whispered. She didn’t need to be told twice.   
  
Distant screams. Footpads on hardwood floors. Snuffling growls.   
  
A bang like a thunderclap. The classroom door burst into kindling, a hulking, top-heavy beast surging inside like a living daemonic battering ram.   
  
Morgan snapped his fingers. The wooden door vanished into a cloud of sharpened wooden stakes that plunged into the minotaur like shrapnel. The beast bellowed in pain and outrage, leaping forward in a diving tackle. Morgan casually stepped aside and allowed it to crash through the window.   
  
A swarm of ghouls surged inside on the minotaur’s heels. Morgan threw both his hands forward and met them with stream of searing azure lightning. They stopped in their tracks, electricity coursing through their forms, faces twisted into the awful, grinning rictus of the dead.   
  
Morgan blasted them back with a gust of wind, their smouldering corpses hitting the opposite wall with dull, wet slaps, and sealed the doorway with a conjured barrier. Another wave of ghouls smashed into the wall of solidified light, clawing and biting at the barrier in frustration.   
  
Behind him, Morgan heard the crunch of broken glass as the wounded minotaur pulled its way back up to the windowsill. Morgan shot it without even looking, the phasic bolt paralyzing the beast and letting it fall to its death three storeys below.   
  
Morgan exhaled, his cloak ruffling in the breeze from the shattered window. Before him, ghouls scratched and clawed at his barrier without making a dent.   
  
Then a second minotaur lumbered into view, glowering at Morgan behind his conjured shield. It charged the barrier, smashing headfirst into the pane of arcane power hard enough to leave a crack.   
  
Morgan shuddered, stumbling from the impact. He cringed as the beast pounded against the barrier again, and again. He grit his teeth and readied his phase pistol, charging another shot--  
  
Two leaf-green lasbolts struck the minotaur from the side, blasting bloody chunks out of its huge, misshapen musculature. It turned towards its opponent, more indignant than injured, and roared in defiance.   
  
A third lasbolt flew into its mouth and blasted out the back of its skull.   
  
The beast gurgled and died, sinking into a heap on the floor. More sounds of fighting drifted down the hall-- the sharp crack of lasfire, the energized hum and chop of a blade cutting through the air, dense, meaty impacts. Then silence.   
  
Morgan maintained his barrier, his phase pistol raised. There was a sound-- a clicking, of boot heels coming down the hall.   
  
“Morgan?” Syl called.   
  
Morgan dropped his barrier, ran and dove into his sister’s arms. Syl embraced him, awkwardly, her sword and her pistol still in her grip, but she still squeezed him as tight as she could.   
  
“Syl! I love you!” Morgan blurted out in surprise and relief.   
  
“I know,” Syl smiled. She nodded to the classroom. “What were you doing in here?”  
  
“Tutoring,” Morgan said dryly. Syl turned, and greeted his student with a nod.   
  
“Miss Crespo,” she said.   
  
“Yo,” Serafine waved. She gestured out the window. “Gotta say, this? All this? Pretty heavy shit for my first couple weeks.”  
  
“Just imagine what it’ll be like at finals,” Syl chuckled.   
  
“Has there been any word from the Sparrow? The Council?” Morgan pressed.   
  
“Nothing yet,” Syl reported. “Archmagus Kalani’s trying to consolidate our forces on the Onyx campus. All the staff and initiates we can manage. No official word on reinforcements just yet. But there’s this.”  
  
Syl pointed out the window. Morgan followed her gaze, breaking out into a hopeful smile.   
  
“...Well, would you look at that…” Morgan chuckled. “Looks like _someone’s_ watching up there.”  
  
“Let’s just hope they’re on our side,” Syl replied.   
  
Above them, the Breach, a false, black sun tinged with sickly green, eclipsed Providence’s sun and cast the planet in an eerie half-light, even in the middle of the afternoon. Shadows moved across the sky-- the Malefic fleet, their warships drifting past in a macabre imitation of clouds.   
  
Flashes, like lightning in the distance. Fire bloomed high above, the stars coming out long before nightfall, searing new constellations across the sky.   
  
The counterattack had finally begun.   
  
Somewhere up there, Aabha was waiting, fighting not for the planet but for the people she loved. She, Kit, and the Valkyries of Order asset Talon were falling like comets towards Providence’s surface. The fire that rained from Heaven.   
  
And somewhere up there, the Sparrow was with them. One ship among hundreds. One tale among many. Not for victory or defeat. Not for armies or nations.   
  
For love.   
  
One little bird, flying among eagles.  
  
~*~


End file.
